


your eyes of glass

by ShanleenKinnJaskey



Series: remember my last [6]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Canon Het Relationship, F/M, Have my one-shots gotten any better?, Historical Hetalia, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I'm sorry for historical inaccuracies, POV Multiple, POV Second Person, Propane Nightmares by Pendulum, PruHun, Songfic, aushun, but it's Hetalia canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-09 22:58:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3267494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShanleenKinnJaskey/pseuds/ShanleenKinnJaskey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prussia and Austria both love Hungary, but in the end the death of one of them makes Hungary realize that love isn't exactly what she thought it would be.</p><p>Can be read alone but sets up for a later fic.</p><p>Not as clichéd as it sounds- I promise!</p>
            </blockquote>





	your eyes of glass

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NightlySnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightlySnow/gifts).



> Bold is Prussia, underlined is Austria, and regular font is Hungary.
> 
> The version of the song that matches the lyrics (as well as a great timeline) you can find at this link: http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=O7rES0bvU4w

_Mind is willing_

 

A boy with eyes of blood, hair of snow, and a ego to match the gods'.

Despite everything he's your best friend.

You might say you have a love/hate relationship at best. He irritates you and you beat him up.

He's really quite annoying.

 

_Soul remains_

 

**Acidic eyes of green and whisper smiles- those are what you find in the annoying face of Hungary. He smiles rarely, and gets beaten a lot by the Ottoman Empire.**

**"Will you join me?" You ask the poison eyes.**

**He spits in your face. "Never," He replies.**

**You grin back. "I am too awesome, Hungary. You will bow before me soon enough."**

 

_This woman cannot be saved_

 

His blood eyes find you injured one day.

He laughs. "Got yourself hurt?"

 _Don't come near me_ , you plead silently, _I can't let you see_. You anxiously try to cover up what your torn uniform doesn't. 

He tears off his crotch cloth. "C'mon, Hungary, use my crotch cloth. It's almost as awesome as I am-" He stops when he sees what you're hiding. He makes a strange choking sound in his throat.

"Here," he mutters, pulling off his outer robes and shoving it into his hands. A fierce blush encompasses his cheeks, "Take this."

Then he walks off. Well, he hobbles off. You've never noticed it before, but he walks kind of funnily.

He's also somewhat kind, in his own way.

 

_From the drawn into the fire_

 

**The next time you see her she lives with Austria. She's cleaned up a lot. She dresses like a proper woman now, in a green gown and a white apron and a yellow flower in her hair.**

**For some reason you feel a twinge of anger at the fact that the reason that flower is there is because of Austria, that up-tight sophisticated brother of yours, and that he's the reason those poison eyes have softened to a meadowy green.**

**You do feel a twist of satisfaction, however, when you see the shard of hard emerald green left in her eyes.**

**She hasn't been completely domesticated yet.**

 

_Mind is willing_

 

She's beautiful and fierce. She says she loves you, but you can never be sure. You're married but it was an arranged union.

She seems happy spending time with Italy and Holy Rome, so you let her. It's much better to see her happy, her eyes sparkling, than dejected like when Prussia moved away.

You think that she might still care about him, no matter how much she complains about him.

 

_Soul remains_

 

His eyes are filled with the inky purple of crushed violets, his hair the color of the silky midnight sky. His fingers turn the piano into a song sent from the heavens, and his rare smiles sent a flutter through your heart.

"Mister Austria," Italy cries one day, "Holy Rome's gone."

Austria looks at you with a despairing look in his violet eyes, but his lips, as always, stay neutral.

"It's okay, Italy," You say with a smile, and scoop him up. "Come on, little one, it's time to go paint." You don't bring up Holy Rome.

You don't think you ever will in front of Italy again.

 

_This woman cannot be saved_

 

Your wife, with her lovely eyes of dark forest green, is amazing. She's so kind to everyone, and she has the capacity to surprise you in ways you've never even thought about before.

One day you're playing the piano with her standing by your side, her head softly bobbing to the music, when a strange tune filters down the hallway. It sounds like English, the barbarian language of the British Empire.

"Draw a circle, that's the earth..."

You stand up and head down to Italy's room, Hungary trailing behind you. You reach Italy's room and find her dancing, her arms bouncing up and down at her sides.

"...I am HETALIA!" Italy's voice deepens significantly on this last word and your jaw falls. Not much for a normal person, but for you it's like my jaw has fallen to the ground.

Hungary, of course, runs forward and begins squealing in excitement with Italy.

Your wife can really be surprising sometimes.

 

_From the drawn into the fire_

 

You do love him, you really do. But it's a soft, familial kind of love rather than a raging passion.

There's no spark between your bitter greens and his royal violets, but there is comfort. You know that although he may not always seem very loving, he really cares about  and respects Italy and you.

Well, he at least respects you. Italy may be a bit too cowardly for his respect.

 

_Anything to_

 

**You find a new country. The strange thing about the twelve-year-old looking country is that he doesn't hold any memories. Looking into his blue eyes is like looking into the eyes of a newborn babe, innocent and unaware of the world.**

**And yet he has dreams every night of a little girl with auburn hair, who he says has 'the most amazing green eyes he's ever seen'. He can never remember her exact features every morning, but he says he remembers that.**

**You know who he used to be, who his swift growing is taking him farther and farther away from on a daily basis- your older brother Holy Rome- but you don't want to deal with the pain of losing him again.**

**So you get rid of any chance of those memories coming back. You'll keep him away from Italy for as long as possible, even if that means staying away from Miss Hungary (who you think you might have fallen for) and raise him as your own with as little help from Austria as possible as compared to Holy Rome.**

**You give him a new name- Germany. Yes, you think Germania would have liked that again**.

 

_Bring it on home_

 

You get a letter in the mail. It says that Prussia finally wants to introduce his new brother. You're so excited- you haven't seen him in ages.

 

_Bring it on home_

 

The boy arrives. Italy barely pays attention to him, running past in his new suit. "Ciao, Prussia!" He shouts excitedly, running off to do whatever. You know that Italy won't remember this in the morning- he's probably already forgotten about his one glimpse of the new country.

The new country walks up to you. With a body of seventeen years of age, his sharp eyes of ice reflect the sky. His clothing is not too fancy but not too shabby either. He bows in greeting. "Guten tag, Herr Austria," he says. 

You nod back, but inside you're wondering. There's something slightly off about this country.

 

_Bring it on home_

 

Years and years later you enter a war. Austria and your boss has been shot by one of Serbia's men and now it's time to crack down on the rebellions. Long live the Emperor! 

 

_Bring it on home_

 

**Yesterday you, Austria, and Hungary were discussing strategies when West walked in, no longer so little and powerless. There are cracks in his hard blue eyes, wounds come of pain and age.**

**He asks you and your allies why you call them the grand old wars. This is his first one, and he's not exactly sure why you refer to it as grand.**

**You don't have an answer.**

 

_Much too weak to jump yourself_

 

America joins the war, his azure eyes that mirror the depths of the ocean haunting you from the first moment you see them. You have the sinking feeling that he's the one who will win the war.

You can also tell that the man with the sour green eyes, Britain, loves him, though he won't admit it. How could he, in this day and age? Society would tear him apart.

Your wife, however, is quite excited.

Now that you think about it, she's always liked that sort of thing, right? After all, Italy _was_ a boy.

 

_Heal the wounds or crack the shell_

 

**You, Germany, Austria, and Hungary lose the war, courtesy of the new Western nation.**

**Austria and Hungary are forced to get a divorce. Austria's violet eyes are the saddest you've ever seen them, and you feel slightly guilty when a twinge of happiness goes through you.**

**But you ignore it. You're too awesome to be bothered by emotions such as guilt.**

 

_Lift yourself from once below_

 

You're your own woman now. Austria, with his eyes of crushed violets, is gone. You've gotten what you've always wanted- to be independent- but something's missing.

Prussia drops by one day. Germany's off by himself somewhere (maybe even with Italy, who he just discovered in a tomato box- you don't ask) and it's just the two of you.

His blood eyes haven't changed much, but there _is_ a undercurrent of humanity to them, a certain vulnerability. Having to take care of a brother all on his own has changed him, opening him up in a way Holy Rome never did.

You think you might even like it.

 

_Much too weak to jump yourself_

 

Your empire's gone. Your power's gone. And most importantly, your wife is gone.

Hungary was perfect, with her bitter green eyes and long, wavy chestnut brown hair. She was beautiful, smart, independent, and just perfect all around. You loved her, even though you know she saw you merely as a friend.

You wish you had kissed her, shown her that you loved her. Maybe something might have happened. 

Instead you only see her at world meetings, often accompanied by Prussia, your brother and her childhood friend. Jealousy hits you in a way it never has before, but the feeling is softened when you see she still wears those flowers you gave her so long ago.

 

_Heal the wounds or crack the shell_

 

**Hungary kisses you in the 1920s. A passionate press of your lips against hers. You've been waiting for this moment for years.**

**"I love you, Hungary, " You say as you separate, "You're as awesome as I am."**

**She gazes at you, poison swirling in her eyes, mixing with the meadowy green. Her emotions mix together, becoming a roiling storm of moods.**

**"I don't know what to say, Prussia," She says, "I love you too, but..." She subconsciously brushes a hand against the flowers in her hair and your heart stutters, your stomach dropping. Whether she realizes it or not she still cares a lot about Austria, and it's tearing you apart**.

 

_Lift yourself from once below_

 

Dear god, you've screwed up. You love Prussia, there's no denying it, but every time you kiss him the image of Austria's soulful violet eyes dances before your closed eyelids. You have the feeling he's fallen in love with you just as Prussia has, and you _do_ care about him, but it's not the whirlwind love you feel when you kiss Prussia.

He's your ex-husband, of course you're going to think of him, but does it have to be at such inopportune times?

 

_Praise the anger_

 

A second World War begins, and this one truly stretches the while world round. You're a minor player this time- in fact, you're forced to move into Germany's house almost immediately.

_Ancshluss_ ,  they call it. 

Hungary, on the other hand, joins the Axis voluntarily. She also moves in, but she does so because she wants to.

She takes the bedroom next to Prussia's.

 

_Bring it on home_

 

**You're upset that the war has begun, but at least Hungary has moved in. In between battles you spend the days with her, talking and kissing. Her poison greens are happier than ever, but also hide a certain melancholy. Just as ever, they show a mix of emotions and a depth of character.**

**You notice things about her you don't care about with other people. She's the only one who matters now that West is always with his boyfriend Italy and his new best friend Japan.**

**"Prussia, what happened to Austria?" She asks one day, her brow creased in concern, "I haven't seen him in a while."**

**You cringe inwardly. Not Austria again. "I don't know where that unawesome country is," You reply honestly.**

**She frowns, sitting forward on the sofa. "It's not polite to talk about someone that way," She says.**

 

_Bring it on home_

 

Israel's your cousin. You're Jewish but you don't dare let Prussia find out, for fear he'll tell Germany and you'll be dragged off to the chambers by the Nazis,  the dark side of Germany.

You've seen the terror your cousin's going through, the agony she's experiencing.

Pain. Neverending pain.

 

_Bring it on home_

 

Your boss tells you that it's time to leave, to say goodbye to Prussia and Germany.

Prussia tries to hold on to you, to cling to you, but you have to go. "Hungary, don't leave the awesome me! I love you!"

You see the terror in his blood eyes. He knows that he and his brother are losing and he has no idea what will happen to him.

 

_Bring it on home_

 

**It's ending. You're dying.**

**"Hungary," You say weakly as you fade away, "I love you."**

**Then everything dissolves in a blast of light.**

 

_Something's tearing me down and down_

 

He's gone. The rest of the countries dissolved him.

Why?

You end up crying into Austria's arms. It may be out of character but you don't care. You loved him.

Why did he have to leave?

 

_And I can't help but feel it's coming from you_

 

"I'm sorry about Prussia," You say softly, stroking her hair gently. She sobs into your nice antique purple jacket. It will probably leave a spot but you don't care- you love her and just want her to feel better.

"Why?" She croaks, "Why did he have to go?"

You don't have a reply for that.

_She's a gunshot bride with a trigger cries_

 

The war's over. It ended with Prussia's death.

Now you've entered an age of constant fear and paranoia, when you constantly wait to be blown up by atomic weapons and America and Russia have turned into the world's superpowers.

You're worried about the youthful country. At only a few hundred years old the fate of the entire world is resting on his shoulders. 

 

_I just wonder what we've gotten ourselves into_

You and Austria are powerless, the last dusty vestiges of a long-forgotten Era. Your bitter greens have been replaced by America's shattered blues in the world stage, and Russia's emotionless mauve have replaced your ex-husband's soulful crushed violets.

You're not sure if that's a good thing.

 

_In a trail of fire I know we will be free again_

 

The Soviet Union has fallen. The chains binding you to Russia have burned away, melting into the past.

The scars, however, are still there.

America is the lone superpower now, but you can tell that he doesn't want it. The poor young man at least has Britain, his former mentor and now current lover, by his side.

As you do Austria.

 

_In the end we will be one_

_In a trail of fire I'll burn before you bury me_

_Set your sights for the sun_

_Bring it on home._

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, same as with the first story- please comment/ leave kudos if you like the story or want to suggest a song. I'm pretty sure I'll be doing America soon (I Lived or Marching On by OneRepublic) or Russia (Beware the Frozen Heart from Frozen) or Spain (Viva la Vida by Coldplay).  
> Oh, and I still have that Chibitalia surprise hidden up my sleeve.
> 
> Feel free to suggest songs for characters!
> 
> And did you like it? Feel free to comment/leave kudos if you do.  
> Or just comment if you don't.


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